Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns everything.
Chapter 10: Cosmopolitan Kisses
Three days later, on Friday night, Hermione perched on a stool at the bar of a local pub, nervously sipping her pink cocktail. When George walked in the door he scanned the room for Hermione and, having spotted her sitting there with her back to him, hurried across the room to meet her. Sneaking up on her from behind, he wrapped his hands around her eyes. She tensed up under his hands.
"Guess who?" He whispered into her ear. She relaxed when she heard his familiar voice. Relaxed was an understatement actually seeing as how she positively melted at the touch of his breath on her ear. She took a deep breath to calm herself.
"Colonel Mustard, in the library, with the lead pipe?" She asked with a laugh.
"Huh?" He asked as he took a seat on the bar stool next to her.
"Oh nevermind, it's a muggle thing," she said lightly, not caring to go into the elaborate explanation of her favorite childhood game, Clue.
"Oh you crazy muggles," he said with a slightly confused laugh. He eyed her drink suspiciously as he ordered himself a firewhiskey. "I never pegged you as a Cosmopolitan type of girl." Hermione blushed as pink as her drink.
"Well, I'm just full of surprises," she said, smiling coyly. At that moment George very much wanted to kiss her, but he controlled his urge as Hermione looked down shyly into her drink, embarrassed at her own boldness. She did not tell George that she was not a 'Cosmopolitan type of girl' at all. In fact she was much more of a 'club soda type of girl' but she had had a rough day of work and just couldn't deny her peculiar weakness for things colored pink.
An hour later George and Hermione walked arm in arm out of the bar. It was less arm in arm, actually, and more Hermione hanging on to George for dear life. After one and a half Cosmopolitans, she was feeling pretty shaky on her feet, and wasn't sure she could apparate home safely. George was more than willing to walk her home and, he thought to himself, tuck her in to bed, if necessary.
After letting themselves into Hermione's apartment, George busied himself in the kitchen making some very strong coffee in attempt to sober her up a bit. She was by no means drunk, but she was not used to drinking, and George was a little worried about how she would feel in the morning.
"I am so sorry George. I don't usually drink. I had no idea that so little liquid could make me feel so…dizzy," she tried to explain as he pushed a steaming cup of coffee into her hands. Her kitten hopped up onto the couch and settled onto George's lap. He petted her gently as he watched Hermione with concern.
"What'd you name her?" George asked. Curiously, Hermione blushed a little.
"Sugar," she said softly. She was surprised when he didn't laugh.
"That's sweet," he said. Then laughed, "no pun intended." She smiled at him stroking the little gray kitten.
"Her full name is actually The Sugar Plum Fairy, but she goes by Sugar," Hermione explained. George's brow furrowed in confusion, wondering if this was the alcohol talking. "Oh I suppose you don't know about the Nutcracker Ballet either?" She asked, a little disappointed. He shook his head, obviously bewildered. "Oh nevermind," she sighed, "it's too complicated to explain." George looked at her sadly, wishing that he understood the muggle part of her life.
"Do you miss being a muggle?" He asked her. She looked up, startled. While he waited for her answer he looked around her living room. She had a television, though most wizards did these days, a telephone, a computer sitting on a desk in the corner, and a car sitting on the street in front of her house. In her kitchen, he remembered, was a toaster, a microwave, and anelectric can opener, among other things.
"I guess I don't miss being a muggle. I've been a witch since the day I was born, I just didn't know it. I never really belonged, you know? But there are things about the muggle world that I miss. When I was eleven I made the choice to leave my world, my friends, even my parents, behind. I didn't realize then what the implications would be. All I could think about was how special I was because I was being asked to attend this secret school and be part of this secret little club. But it wasn't just some little club, I had to join a whole new world. And I loved it, please don't think that I don't love the wizarding world. I belong here. But, I miss having a normal relationship with my parents. I never could bring home my A+ essays, I couldn't show them the new charm that I learned, or the spell that I mastered before anyone else in my year. I feel bad that there are so many parts of my life that I can't show them," she babbled, sharing the things she had never told anyone before. "I guess sometimes I feel bad for how easy magic makes my life. I just miss doing things the old, hard way. I miss crawling around in the flowerbed on my hands and knees under the burning sun pulling weeds. I miss the accomplished feeling after cleaning my whole house without magic. I miss baking homemade cookies even if they get all messed up because I put in a tablespoon of baking powderinstead ofbaking soda," she laughed a choked little laugh at this, but George saw the tears threatening to spill. He scootched nervously across the couch and rubbed her shoulders a little. "Why do I end up crying every time you come over?" She teased him, as she wiped a tear from her cheek.
"Oh Hermione I'm sorry, I never should have brought this up," he whispered, feeling ashamed. She shook her head at him, looking up with her bright, watery brown eyes.
"No George, please don't be sorry. I'm just upset because I've never told anyone this. And I've never told anyone because no one ever cared enough to notice, no one ever cared enough to ask." Sitting so close to her on her couch, with her damp, pink cheeks, and sparkling eyes, George was overwhelmed, for the second time that night, with the desire to kiss Hermione. He tried his best to ignore the urge, telling himself that it would be completely indecent to take advantage of her while she was slightly inebriated and crying. Luckily he only had to restrain himself for a moment, because a second later Hermione had reached up and kissed him squarely on his lips. For a moment he kissed her back, but the next he was pulling away. Hermione looked at him, looking quite confused, and more than a little mortified by her actions.
"Her-Hermione, I have to go," he stuttered, not looking her directly in the eyes. He grabbed his jacket where it was swung across the back of an overstuffed chair and rushed out the door, leaving a horrified Hermione sitting, paralyzed, on the couch.
A/N: Hi everyone, sorry in the delay between updates. I hope you like this chapter! I'll update again soon, I hope. Please read and review!